"I think there are certain crimes which the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justify private revenge."- Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton," collected in The Return of Sherlock Holmes, 1905)
On
the last day of November, I hosted a guest-blog by Philip Harbottle,
titled "The
Detective Fiction of John Russell Fearn," which detailed
his untiring, decades-long trek that lead to the republication of
Fearn's entire body of work and recommended eleven of his detective
novels – two of his recommendations specifically caught my fancy.
I've already reviewed Pattern of Murder (2006) and was not
letdown by either the authenticity of the cinema setting or the quality of
the plot.
The
second title that caught my eye was Account Settled (1949),
because yours truly is a predictable hack of the first water who has
already tagged close to 350 blog-posts with the "locked
room" toe-tag. What about The
Man Who Was Not (2005), you ask? A story that "positively
bristled" with impossible crime material and comes across as
S.S. van Dine's The
Greene Murder Case (1928) as perceived by Paul
Halter. Don't worry, I already added that one to the pile and
will be covered in a future review.
Account
Settled was originally published under one of Fearn's least
subtle pennames, "John Russell," but this did not prevent the
book from remaining "completely unknown for many decades"
until Harbottle rediscovered it and presented a copy to the late
Robert Adey – who had been "unaware of its locked room
credentials." I've a little surprise regarding that meeting
between Adey and Harbottle at the end of this review (don't peek!).
Anyway...
Account
Settled is without doubt one of Fearn's pulpier crime stories,
but without the plot dissolving into hackery as was, sadly, the case
with Robbery
Without Violence (1957).
The
tale is a diverting and highly readable potboiler bubbling over with
cut-throat business practices, betrayal, brutal reprisals and a
number of inexplicable murders. However, it takes two-thirds of the
book to get those impossible crimes and they only play a minor part
in the overall plot. So keep that in mind when you decide to dip into
this one.
Rajek
Quinton had been "a master-watchmaker since the age of twenty"
and left his native country of Switzerland behind in order to sell
his world-altering invention in the United Kingdom. Quinton has found "a way to make matter pass through matter" by forcing "the
atoms to obey magnetism," which neutralizes their "normal
obstructive power" and designed a "self-sinking atomic
bomb" – which means that the bomb can "go anywhere,
through anything, and remain hidden." Until the time-fuse fires
it. A terrifying weapon that could bring any country in the world "to
its knees in twenty-four hours."
Quinton
had attempted to contact the War Office, but there was such a delay
that he decided to make an offer to a well-known financier, Emerson
Drew, who stands at the head of the Drew Financial Trust. Drew is
definitely interested in this "colossal invention" and
exchanges a signed receipt for the blueprints, which he wants to have
looked over by the head of his own scientific research department,
Bruce Valant. And Valant doesn't need much time to confirm Quinton's
claims.
Drew
is not only the head of a mighty finance company, but also the leader
of a small, shadowy cabal of tycoons who have no qualms when it comes
to, as they call it, "a necessary extermination."
This
tiny, tight-knit, group of industrial moguls consists of the financier
himself, Joseph K. Darnhome of Darnhome Metals Corporation and Marvin
de Brock of Independent Atomics. Drew's private chauffeur, Douglas
Brant, is employed to do the dirty work and is ordered to take
Quinton out of the picture and ensure his body is never found or
identified – leading to a gruesome attempt on the watchmaker's
life. Brant disfigured Quinton's face with nitric acid and pushed him
into a quagmire at the bottom of an abandoned mine-shaft. However,
Quinton is not dead and he will come back to haunt all of them.
And
in the meantime, their assumed murder has kicked up more dust then
the group had intended to happen. Quinton has a sick daughter, Jaline
Quinton, who comes to Drew's office to ask what happened to her
father and she finds an unexpected ally in Drew's private-secretary,
Janet Kayne. Together they go to Scotland Yard and speak with Chief
Inspector Poole (the same Poole as Henry
Wade's series-detective? I like to think so!), but talking to the Yard turns out to have deadly consequences. Miss Quinton vanishes and Drew orders Brant to remove
Kayne from this plane of existence, but then the disfigured Quinton returns from the dead and takes out Brant.
These deaths leaves Drew with two vacancies in his personal staff, which are
filled by Joyce Sutton, who bears an uncanny resemblance to the
missing Jaline Quinton, and a man by the name of Peter Maxton –
who's actually Larry Clarke of the Special Branch of the Metropolitan
Police. Clarke and Sutton begin to work together in an attempt to
gather evidence against the three men. They try to accomplish this by
installing a spy-window, using the then brand new "X-ray glass"
(polarized one-way glass), in Drew's private-office.
Where
the story becomes really interesting is when Quinton lures Drew,
Darnhome, De Brock and Valant to a remote house he has converted into
a giant death trap for the purpose of extracting his revenge.
The
doors in the house are electrically sealed. The windows are blocked
with steel shutters and even the walls and floor are steel-lined. So
the place pretty much resembles "a steel box." After they
dined in the strange house, they find a note by Quinton stating that
it's his "avowed intention" to destroy all of them, "one
by one," which makes for a situation that strongly reminded me
of Gwen Bristow and Bruce Manning's The
Invisible Host (1930). I would not all be surprised if Fearn
had Bristow and Manning in mind when he wrote the last portion of
Account Settled, because the way in which Quinton deals out
death is very reminiscent to the many murders in The Invisible
Host.
Anyway,
two of the murders are of the impossible variety: one of them has "a
dagger buried to the hilt between his shoulder blades" in a
gloomy, dimly-lighted, but deserted, hallway bare of any hiding
places.
So nobody appears to have been in a position to deliver the
fatal dagger thrust. Another member of the party is found strangled
to death behind the locked door of a bedroom. As said previously,
these two impossible murders only form a minor part of the overall
plot and were quickly dispelled. The death in the locked bedroom is
almost immediately solved.
Nevertheless,
you have to admire Fearn for waving away the "hoary, hackneyed
melodrama" of hidden panels and secret passageways. The
explanations are without question pure, undiluted pulp, but perfectly
acceptable within the confines of this particular story. I also want
to add that this is what, more or less, I had hoped to find when I
cracked open Kate Wilhem's Smart
House (1989). Fearn succeeded, where Wilhem failed, without the use of
(somewhat) modern computers!
Naturally,
the danger infested house also provides an exciting ending for the
two innocent characters, Clarke and Sutton, who were caught in
between Quinton's desire for revenge and his victims.
On
a whole, Account Settled is a diverting pulp-thriller with an
and-then-there-were-none ending that included two fairly original
impossible crimes, which makes for a great tag-along read. Yes, this
is a book that you should read without your deerstalker on, because
there's nothing here for the ardent armchair detective to solve. You just
have to sit back and read how a group particularly nasty, high-class
criminals get their long deserved comeuppance.
Lastly,
I promised a little surprise earlier in this post concerning the
meeting between Adey and Harbottle.
During
their first meeting at Adey's home, Harbottle presented him with his
spare copy of Account Settled, which he called "a vintage
locked room" that Adey and "all his stateside pals like
Doug Greene" had never seen or heard of. Adey also had two
items in his collection Harbottle missed in his collection: a
long-sought after title, Lonely
Road Murder (1954), which Fearn had written under the Brown
Watson house name of “Elton Westward.” Secondly, there was a book
with a cover by his favorite artist, Ron Turner, which he has since
reused for the Wildside Press edition of Account Settled.
Here's the photograph of that exchange (taken by Harbottle's
daughter):
Robert Adey & Philip Harbottle |
Just
one more thing, I know some of you are probably sick and tired by now
of us fanboying around Fearn, like a gaggle of internet fangirls in
heat, but a package arrived recently with another one of his locked
room novels. So... I'm definitely going for the hat trick. After
that, I'll even try to review some non-locked room mysteries again.
;)
No comments:
Post a Comment